


Some Fight Left in Me

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confidence, Developing Relationship, M/M, Pep Talk, Service Dogs, Traumatic Brain Injury, brief violence mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 07:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10271927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: Enjolras has a brief crisis of confidence, but Grantaire talks him through it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For liberaldisaster, who requested a fic about Enjolras and his service dog. Written on my phone since my computer was temporarily dead, so please forgive any weird autocorrects I didn’t catch.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip and your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Both Enjolras and the labradoodle at his feet lifted their heads as Grantaire clattered into the room, but as soon as the dog saw who it was, he set his head back down on his paws. “Enjolras,” Grantaire panted, out of breath. “A bunch of us are getting coffee and I–” He broke off, wheezing. “Christ, I’m out of shape.”

Enjolras hid a smile. “You’re getting coffee and wanted to invite me?” he guessed. “You know, you own this thing called a cellphone that allows you to text or call me instead running all the way over here.”

Grantaire shrugged, still breathing heavily. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” he asked. “Besides, I’m better at guilting you in person than over the phone.”

“Fair enough,” Enjolras said after he rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. “So where are you planning on going, anyway?”

Grantaire gestured vaguely over his shoulder. “That new coffee shop off of State street. Joly, Bossuet and I decided to check it out.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said, his face falling, and he looked back down at his laptop, his forehead creased. “Well, I think I’m going to pass, but thank you.”

“You? Pass on coffee?” Grantaire clutched his chest. “Either I’m having an exercise-induced heart attack or I’m about to die from the shock.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes again. “It’s not a big deal,” he muttered. “I’ve got work to do here, and I’ll just grab a coffee from the Starbucks down the street when I leave.”

Grantaire stared at him, genuine concern on his face. “You hate Starbucks,” he said. “I mean, look, if you don’t want to get coffee with us, that’s fine, whatever, but don’t make up a lie about Starbucks.”

Enjolras sighed and reached down to scratch his dog’s ears. “Fine, the truth is that I’ve already been to that coffee shop.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said, still a little put out. “Bad coffee?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Enjolras said, his voice tight. “They refused to serve me.”

Grantaire’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh,” he said, sinking into the chair next to Enjolras. “Because of Apollo?”

At the sound of his name, the dog sat up, eyes as bright as his red service vest, and Enjolras smiled slightly, ruffling Apollo’s ears. “Got it in one.” He shook his head. “They wouldn’t believe me that he was a service dog, so I left.”

“You left?” Grantaire repeated. “But…you never just leave. That’s like…like giving up.”

Enjolras flushed slightly. “Well I didn’t say I was proud of it,” he shot back. “I just…” He sighed and shook his head, his hands balling into fists. “Do you ever just get tired of fighting?”

“No,” Grantaire said, though he added with a smile, “Because that would require me to fight in the first place, and that’s not really my jam.” Enjolras didn’t smile and Grantaire’s frown returned. “But seriously, fighting is what you do – it’s who you are.” He paused for a moment before adding, his voice quiet, “It’s what brought you back to us.”

Enjolras glanced up at Grantaire, letting Apollo nudge his fist until he unclenched his hand and went back to petting his ears. “I know that,” he said, his voice equally quiet. “But that’s what I mean – everything I worked on before and then recovering from traumatic brain injury, figuring out how to live with epilepsy caused by said injury, and working now on rights for service animals…it’s always been a fight. And maybe…maybe it’s just easier to go to Starbucks and avoid that coffee shop.”

“Of course it’s easier,” Grantaire said patiently. “Not fighting is always easier. Giving up is always easier. Just like I imagine it would’ve been easier to not fight after you got shot in the head.”

“Technically I was only clipped by the bullet,” Enjolras pointed out.

Grantaire waved a dismissive hand. “Didn’t make it any less scary, trust me. But you fought back, and that’s the important thing.”

Enjolras huffed an impatient sigh. “Ok, yes, living was a good thing to fight for. But the rest of it…” He sighed again. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother.”

“Because if you don’t fight, then you end up like me,” Grantaire said simply. “And no one wants that. Least of all Apollo.”

Apollo woofed in agreement and Enjolras smiled down at him before transferring his smile to Grantaire. “It wouldn’t be so bad to be you,” he said.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a discussion for another day,” he said dismissively, though he flashed a smile at Enjolras. “The point is, fighting the battles, no matter how small, is what makes you who you are.” Enjolras didn’t look convinced and Grantaire reached out, a little tentatively, to touch Enjolras’s arm. “And when all the fighting seems a little much for any one person to handle, don’t forget you’ve got friends who are more than willing to help. Hell, even Marius would be willing to sue their asses on your behalf.”

“What about you?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire shrugged. “I’m no good at fighting,” he said simply. “But reminding you why you fight? That’s a task I think even I can handle.”

“I think it’s a task _only_ you can handle,” Enjolras said softly.

“Calumny and lies,” Grantaire said cheerfully, standing up and offering his hand to Enjolras. “Now, if you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, let’s go get coffee. And if they try to stop you, you can sic Apollo on them. Or sue ‘em. Either way.”

Enjolras reluctantly took Grantaire’s hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet. “Why do you care so much?” he asked.

Grantaire shrugged. “Maybe it’s because I know a little bit about what it’s like to fight something so far outside of your control.” They both knew he was referring to his own fight with mental illness and drug addiction “Or maybe it’s just because I like the way you look when you recite the legal rights of service animals and those they assist.”

Enjolras laughed and squeezed Grantaire’s hand. “Well, either way. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Grantaire said easily, and made to let go of Enjolras’s hand, his eyebrows raising in surprise when Enjolras instead laced their fingers together. “Now let’s go get some coffee with a side of potential lawsuit. Come on, Apollo.”

Apollo _woofed_ and looked up at Enjolras for permission. Enjolras rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Alright,” he said. “I think I’ve got some fight in me after all.”

“Good boy,” Grantaire said approvingly.

Enjolras frowned at him. “Are you talking to me or to the dog?”

Grantaire considered it for a moment. “Both,” he decided, squeezing Enjolras’s hand. “But I’ll only let one of you pay me back with kisses.”

“Which one of us would that be?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire winked at him. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”


End file.
